


Purr

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:19:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elnor vs Spot II.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Purr

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m sure this has been done but oh well.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The synthetics’ settlement is fascinating if dangerous—Elnor’s acutely aware that every person he passes is perfectly capable of matching him in combat. At least, in theory. They’re made to be stronger, faster than even the greatest warriors he trained amongst, but he tells himself they don’t have _practice_ , and that must count for something. Nor emotion. Emotional truth is as key a fighting point as any. He’d like to think that if he did have to battle his way out of the small village, even protecting Picard along the way, he’d manage. If not, he’d die trying. 

He’s halfway down the main path, hemmed in by two rows of glass-walled buildings, when his back prickles—the familiar sensation of two eyes keenly piercing into him. Thus far, none of the androids have paid him much mind, but he knew that that could change at any moment. Elnor tenses, halting his walk for a fraction of a second, testing that gaze and judging the long shadows in his peripherals—nothing moves. His hand does.

All in one swift movement, he draws his sword and swirls on his heels, falling easily into a warrior’s stance. Poised to kill, he asses his enemy. 

The small, furry orange-white creature peers intently up at him. Then it utters a soft, “ _Meow._ ” Elnor’s resolve trembles. 

Slowly, he lowers his blade. Then he sheathes it. The more he stares at the tiny creature perched before him, the more sure he is. He breathes as much to himself as it, “You are the cat of legends. _Spot_.”

Its tail flicks against the pavement as if to say: _Yes, it is I._

Elnor’s fingers twitch. There is a moment where the two of them simply stare at one another, the creature’s slit-like eyes cutting right through his flesh and bones and into his very being. He’s never seen anything so _fluffy_. It looks terribly soft, comfortable even. Kind, clever. Mystical. He doesn’t know how to react to it. 

He moves into a squat, hair tumbling down his shoulders and brushing the ground, drawing the cat’s gaze. It pads closer, one paw at a time, and Elnor searches his memory for the right way to greet a cat, internally cursing Picard for never teaching him. It’s a Terran creature, even if its new masters aren’t, and Elnor only knows one Terran greeting. He holds out a single hand. 

The cat walks right past it. The cat’s warm hide brushes across his palm, fur tickling his skin, and then its two front paws are lifting to brace against Elnor’s bent knees. The Maybe-Spot inclines its head towards Elnor’s face, and Elnor politely leans down to meet it. 

The cat abruptly licks his nose. 

Then, just like that, it’s over—Spot clambers back down to the pavement and waddles around Elnor, tail absently batting against his hair. Elnor peers over his shoulder to watch it cross the grass and disappear behind a thick white column. Twin androids walk by, paying no attention to the mesmerizing creature in their midst. 

Elnor realizes belatedly that he’s been holding his breath. When he lets it go, he finds his cheeks warm. He buries his face in his hands, hiding the unbridled emotion that’s taken control of his body. There is no sense behind it. He still hasn’t accomplished his mission. The cat was not a worthy rival—he’s taken out no great warrior. But he met _a cat_ , and he thinks it _liked him_.

Elnor lets out a very un-Romulan squeal, overcome with _joy._


End file.
